Severus and The Girl
by TyyTyleighgh
Summary: After the young professor Snape has settled into Hogwarts a Slytherin witch falls for him. Over the years she tourments him as their friendship grows. Maybe he even finds himself falling for her.
1. Chapter 1

It started years ago.

18th of December 1987, Snape sat at his desk marking papers with barely enough light coming from the 3 pitiful, yet strategically placed candles. His cloak barely enough to keep out the chill of his dungeon office. This was his hiding place really, perfect for the Slytherin head of house, cold, dry air, with colder, wet slimy stone walls, bare smooth stone floors, dark wood furniture.

He could sit there in his own miserable contentedness, with bout's of delicious self pity every now and then. Marking appalling 2nd year assignments, too easy to spot more than enough mistakes to satisfy him. Perfect.

And then there was a little knock at his door.

Who ever it may be, staff or student, he will act like his perfect evening was ruined by their visit, whatever the reason, when in fact he'd learned that most any visit would only bring him twisted happiness. Sadistic bliss. Either a teacher with bad news that didn't affect him, or a student sent down to his office for punishment. Excellent. "Come in." He really was treating himself tonight. If this goes very well he might just reminisce about bitter sweet memories of Lily till he angrily sobs himself to sleep.

When the thick wood creaked open only ajar and, he managed to catch a peripheral glimpse of the student slither past the narrow gap, he put his beak nose back into his papers. This was his tactic with students, appear rude and aloof, keep them scared of you.

He only just registered that the small girl was a Slytherin, and most likely first year, oh and completely alone. Strange. No one dragging her down for punishment, maybe she was trusted to come here alone? That seemed to make sense, being so timid looking as she approached his desk, the punishment must only be made worse by having to face him alone, maybe Filch had had an intelligent thought for once then. Or maybe he thought, as she got closer to the high up, almost black, mass of desk swallowing her image, she had come to see him regarding a house issue. Naive definitely. Stupidly brave. Or even a cruel joke or dare she had lost. And yet she was certainly wearing the Slytherin tie. That crooked old hat needs replacing he thought with salty disgust. This evening could very well be ruined!

Snape was very good at thinking through things quickly, logically, and analytically, all at once, and this little mental exercise was routine, though the circumstance anything but.

Only one candle managed to throw illumination on her, as silently she stood at his desk, that had managed to swallow the girl up to her chest. Her pale face seemed to barely peek out of the darkness, with only blank eyes and pressed lips. But no fear. He was concussed. This certainly was naivety or blindly stupid bravery. There could be no enigma here, only logic.

A skinny white hand confidently placed a parcel on the edge of his desk without a word. Not only did he have to look at this now, but also but the parchment down. At his recognition of her act a little coy smile emerged from her pressed lips. As the moment passed it even seemed to him a little cocky. "What is this." he said and dryly as he possibly could, keeping his face as motionless as he could while still speaking, his mouth just small cardboard cut out.

The parcel was innocuous enough, on it's own just a delivery from another member of staff. But the girl.

"I got you a Christmas present sir," her voice came out unexpectedly bright and clear, confident and decided. Definitely shocking but mostly it was the cheeriness that got to him. He'd had students, especially the younger years, attempt defiance, back talk even. But he'd never heard cheeriness directed at him. From day once he installed fear and inspired hate. After a thoughtful pause she carried on, gesturing towards the parcel with her eyes "My mother agreed that they're a good choice, she loves them." And her grin spread, eyes gazing at him expecting and optimistic. She looked rather giddy actually.

Well his evening was definitely ruined now.

It was just too much for the poor hunched man. A Christmas present being delivered to him, by a student, a very much unfearful student, a happy student, who's mile was starting to shrink and she stood there waiting for any sign of a response from him. Waiting and waiting. His quick thinking had stopped. It had him broken. He stared at the space between her and the brown paper parcel with his mouth open in an airless slit. She had come in and broken him and his evening. How could he even making to make sense of this? Even a first year by now, especially a Slytherin should know about him and his odorous, vile personality, his accurate reputation, his temper and punishments! Not once in his painfully long 5 years here had anyone other than kind natured Dumbledore offered him a present.

After the long moment of unbroken silent stillness he looked up at her, and directly into her eyes, searching for anything to help him. Pleading for anything to help him. But nothing. Small, full fringe, black hair in two plaits, plain face, unrecognisable, unremembered first year Slytherin girl.

Her eyes now looked pleadingly into his for a response, any response. He snapped back into himself, his collected, undisturbed mold in order to deliver one now he was one the spot.

She put him on the spot. He wouldn't admit that. Ever. maybe.

"And why have you given me this?" half sneering at the parcel.

"To thank you for teaching me this term, I just wanted to show you how grateful I am." she perked up

"Trying to gain favour?" dripping with delight, this was a lesson that could be taught by punishment.

"Oh I was just hoping to be polite sir." Fear and regret cracked through her confidence.

"For your situation, I strongly advise that honesty is the best policy. Now what is your name and again why have you brought this?" He snapped. She should be thankful she's a Slytherin or he would have mauled her by now.

"Leanna Kaper sir, and I'm being honest, I decided to buy each teacher a present this year. I hope it doesn't offend you sir. I'm being sincere." Her voice was careful and decided, very calm and cool, diplomatic even. This only insulted him more. But at least something clicked.

"Ah." he exclaimed, confident and in control now. "You bought the presents? Or did your parents, along with this suggested scheme, to gain favour from all the staff?" She slipped into a look of almost guilt.

"Well I used the rest of my pocket money from my parents, but it was my idea, they just agreed with it."

"Are you trying to be clever miss Kaper?" Evidently angry now. Almost Humiliated.

"No sir." She looked to the floor. But before she did she shot him a look. A strange look. Hurt? Defiance? Maybe not it seemed to him. It was because of that look that he didn't continue beyond,

"GET OUT!"

His evening was ruined before, but now she had just destroyed it. Humiliated, Vexed, confused, Furious, and consumed even.

He got back to marking papers without even acknowledging the present the rest of the evening. The rest of the second years failed the assignment. In fact he even went back over the one's he'd just marked and failed them too.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

After dreaming about Lily very vividly, Snape woke in a much better mood strangely. Honestly what he deserved after last night's torment.

Now his anger had left him, in fact he could barely remember being angry at all, the next logical step it seemed for him was to inspect the present. It was a small box shaped parcel on his desk. Breathing in the warm air of a new day he opened it, to find a small bow of great wizard renly's Chocolates, The refreshing collection, mint lemon and lime! An expensive brand. Though the box itself was only big enough for 9 chocolates, a row of each flavour. And now his morning was ruined.

How did she know? His three favorite flavours. How? How did she manage to pick them! It must be a coincident he calmed himself with. These chocolates are set into collections, his favorite 3 just so happen to be grouped together. It makes sense really, they are all "refreshing".

He put them on his bedside table, feeling rather amused with himself. It was a coincidence and he got something out of it. That's all.

Arriving in the great hall for breakfast, early as always, he found Albus sitting at the staff table by himself, red and gold baubles in his waist length beard, looking very jolly.

"Ah Severus, have you opened your present yet? Delightful aren't they?"

"I've had the pleasure." He felt a tad embarrassed, and his tone came out it's usually steely. Dumbledore went on singing the girls praises. After 10 minutes the staff table was filled before morning dusk had even began to creep across the enchanted ceiling, the air filling with adult chatter. And that chatter naturally falling on little santa's little rounds last night. McGonigal was given the warm collection, her favorite, Flichwick the berry collection, his favorite, in fact every professor had been given their favorites! With Dumbledore of course being given the firesparks selecting, his favorite, with magic popping candy, each row having stronger popping candy.

He amused the other staff with how the third row knocked him off his chair, and took everything off his desk with the blast.

"I like that girl, she's devilish!" He grinned.

"No she's sweet!" exclaimed madame Sprout. "She's gotten to helping me every week with the pounds, very interested in herbology already, she'll be a natural next year! How she's in Sytherin I'll never know! Hufflepuff material if I've ever seen it! 100%!" Shaking the table and she brought down her fit a bit too enthusiastically. She'd got into the real liquor or giggle selection.

"Hufflepuff? She's brave too! SHe's Griffindore material as well!" Chimed in McGOnigal.

"Or Ravenclaw. High marks already you know." Said Flitwick spreading jam on toast.

"So why is she in Slytherin? That hat needs new felt." Sprout giggled to herself.

"What about you Severus? Does the girl have any Slytherin qualities as well?"

"I'm not sure if I'm entirely honest. Maybe she was vying for special favour with her little gift giving expedition."

"She's too sweet to do that! Besides didn't she get you some?" sprout seemed indignant

"Yes, and likewise she got my favorite. Don't you think that's suspicious?" his voice a low hiss.

"That girl has the gift!" Trelawneys voice rose high.

"Well then, it appears we have a very well rounded young lady on our hands!" said flitwick as he now spread marmite on his 6th slice of toast

"Well...not quite. There is something a wee bit…'off' about her. Poor girl still hasn't managed to make any friends yet and it's the last day of term!" McGonigal's face contorted into concern, her tight hairline being pulled forwards by her frown. Snape felt a stabbing in his heart. His face felt an unmoving breeze. He felt the need to lurch forwards. Stay where you are he told himself right at the back of his mind behind all that greasy hair.

"WELL OF COURSE SHE WON'T HAVING BEEN PUT INTO SLYTHERIN!" Sprout boomed now beetroot red from Hagrid's own december morning coffee brew.

"Voice. Down Pomona." Mcgonigal's lips barely moving with the half hiss. The Hall was filling with students now, the last thing that girl needed was a school wide gossip session about her. "She's just...awkward around the other students. Maybe she hasn't had the experience of people her own age, half muggle half witch, out there in their world, nowhere to belong?"

"Well at least she's got time to bury herself in her studies." Now his 8th slice and peanut butter. Snape was find out too much about this girl.

"She needs more than studies, she needs friends, she'll be bullied soon you know! Half blood in slytherin, such a sweet girl."

"I wouldn't worry about that Pomona She already has friends, in all of us at this table." Dumbledore patted her on the hands.

The Great hall becoming truly filled with students was his que the leave with his dignity, revealing nothing about the panicked sweats and heart palpitations he'd suffered through the last bit of chit chat. Only Dumbledore had seen the thin glase to his eyes as he realised and remembered. Himself in that little white figure in his office.

He made his leave, with an empty coffee cup and clean plate, late hagrid taking early Snape's place at the table in the usual and almost times switch over.

His black panther figure was just about to get into the practiced prowl across the hall of students, intimidating and avoiding finding her face, when the doors swung open a bit too quickly and she appeared right in his line of sight. Now he had to carry on but his speed was unsure of itself. Only in the most minute way. Unnoticeable by anything but a stopwatch. She would have just edged around to the slytherin table but that great oaf hagrid had motioned for her to come up to the staff table. Their paths where now shared, and only with each other.

No one in the hall even noticed bar them. No one even really saw, their eyes intent on breakfast, their ears intent on plans of Christmas holidays, end of term tests, end of term pranks.

Pale skin, black hair, plan features, skinny and slight, all alone. But it's different he rationed. Those chocolates were expensive, her uniform is neat and first hand, She won't be alone over the holidays...a loving family no doubt. How dare he even think it for a second? To compare this slippery little teacher's pet to himself? No hardship on her, she's just too boring to make friends.

But now his speed was even more unsure of itself as he neared her. Noticeable to a man counting the seconds now, or even a watchful old eye. He was scared of her.

She acknowledged him. With just the right amounts of December morning cheer, respect and first year shyness. Just in a nod and a look. This he anticipated, this was more than expected, rehearsed even, just a passing by of student and teacher. It was to him expected and normal and devious and suspicious!

As he passed through the doors Hagrid gave the girl a warm hug. She had gotten him the soft collection, vanilla, coconut and caramel. She's asked Dumbledore to deliver it to him, as she could leave the castle to late herself.

As dumbledore thought, the lonely girl wasn't so lonely after all.

With his top form usual rationing he was able to put it all out of his mind the entire day. No first year Slytherin potions class today. Not today. Not tomorrow not till after the holidays in fact. Today was just his second favorite. Saturday detentions. (personally Sunday detentions took over as favorite for him, a student's day of rest being spent applying extra elbow grease the the grand 6th year cauldrons was just too rich!).

Only at the end of his day, after all the luxury of holding 17 students down in the dim pitchy dungeons during the celebrations did he have to face it. The taste of mint lemon and lime. And he enjoyed it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The white powdery skin of his hands, felt the smooth dark wood. It almost seemed as though it was him that was cold and hard.

Through the wavy glass of his room, snow fell humbly. The sky and ground were the same white. All the castle walls and forest trees seemed far away. All he cared about was the warm brown little beating box. Lilies last Christmas present to him.

He allowed himself one more moment, on this Christmas eve, to just think about her, hold her to his heart. This was his. His only true possession. His time. His only love.

It was a jewelry box which lily had mistaken as a decorative box to keep ink bottles in, and it was only a very small thing. She'd rather have gotten him something small, as to be able to afford something rich. Something he would love and appreciate. He'd never corrected her on it clearly being a jewelry box, and it being completely useless for keeping ink bottles in. It still held something though. And he kept both those things on his bureau. Over the years it hd become out of place in Snape's world, as his tastes faded to black and misery.

Thumbling with it as he struggled to accept the time, he inhaled it's still sweet scent.

Dumbledore's soft knocking at his door brought him to putting the box down among his sparse belongings. The old man came in, somber for Christmas eve, looking at the man in black with gentle eyes.

"Beautiful still isn't it Severus."

Snape knew he wasn't talking about the ever falling snow.

"Yes."

"I've always thought it's beautiful to love the soul past the body. She'll always be here as well you know." Dumbledore motioned to his own heart.

"Does it matter when I'm here alone and not even whole." He spat. Severus would never go as far as saying this to anyone over than Dumbledore, his only friend. And even then he kept his black eyes looking somewhere far off.

"Your work does not make you whole?"

"Nothing but her will." His voice was soft and defeated.

"Nothing but love will. Love more than mine Severus. And you don't have to be alone." he paused as though he daren't say the next thing. "Share yourself." His voice still so gentle.

"Who wants me?" Without waiting for Dumbldore's reply he hissed "No one!"

"There are more people than you could ever know severus. And there are more warm feelings to you than you think." dumbledore was calm still, "We do not want to miss you again at Christmas dinner. None of us." He had taken hold of Snape's very cold hand, looking into his eyes, the old man seemed almost a ghost he was so quiet, soft, and light. Snape's eyes showed turmoil. "Even Hagrid misses you." The wise man smiled and chuckled to himself. The atmosphere in the room instantly relaxed, as did Snape's face, and he found the only words he could possibly think to say.

"You are a good man Dumbledore."

"And sadly, You must be a better liked professor than you thought, because I'm giving you your second present this Christmas! Shame isn't it?" he said as he pulled out a red parcel from his huge and embroidered sleeve, handing it over to Snape along with a wink. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, Merry Christmas." he felt his heart warm for the first time, after years of frost creeping over bit by bit.

As soon as Dumbledore left, Snape dressed in his finest black coat, hist grey scarf, and his slender gloves. He walked all the way from the castle to Hogsmead, into the sweet shop, and bought the first Christmas present he'd bought in years. Dumbldore's favorite.

That year Snape joined the staff not for Christmas dinner, but he did catch the desert. Hagrid did enjoy his company, especially his dry wit, laughing himself into hiccups.

The rest of the year however continued just like they always had. Snape keeping himself to himself, brooding in his dark little soul. Keeping the windows blacked out. He'd barely even noticed Leanne. Her gift giving was safely out of Snape's mind, and her plain face safely blended in with the rest. Another above average Slytherin first year. And she seemed to not notice him thankfully. Just another Hogwarts teacher with a terrible attitude, handing out more homework than was necessary.

Until that last day of term.

He was sat in the potions classroom, that even on this hot summer's day, was not even thankfully cool, but ice cold, marking some appalling 4th year assignments, that had obviously been rushed in an attempt to hand in on the last day of term. This was why today was one of his favorite days of the year.

Filch's ugly head appeared round the edge of the door. Snape spotted three new scabs on his scraggly scalp without even looking up.

"Something you'd like to see sir." Excitement reeking in his breath.

"Delightful." looking up he could see crumbs all over his filthy clothes and a great blood crusted bogie clinging on to one of Flich's long nose hairs. Filch was a delight.

Leaving the papers to sit and await their already decided fate he followed the man, staying well behind his wandering odor shadow, to a seemingly innocent sunny hallway. Sunny days at the end of term were a catalyst for inevitable mischief. At the end were two hufflepuff students, who looked on the verge of tears. Snape could see that they were being guarded by a prowling and silent Mrs Norris.

"First years sir." He darkly grinned. "Caught carting off pies from the kitchen. They tried to ambush me and Mrs Norris they did! Too slow for the likes of her though! What should the punishment be then?" Putrid excitement was now pouring out of him, Snape had to take a few steps back, as though he were pondering.

"The last day of term is no excuse for this tomfoolery. What has made you think otherwise?"

"W-w-we, e-eh-h" The girl managed to stutter out unaware that this wasn't a question with an answer, while tears started to roll down the fat boys round red face.

"Pathetic." His voice was lazy, but inside he was beyond delighted! "Detention. Now." At his sly smile the students faces dropped, along with their stomachs.

"Heh heh heh" filch's laugh was dirty.

"Escort them to my classroom Filch, I'm going to see if hagrid can help me with some supplies for their fitting punishment." The boy let out a squeek and the girl was visibly sweating.

Sauntering off he almost felt giddy on the scent of the thick Scottish summer air.

Two sniveling cowardly Hufflepuff first years were far better than last years 3 sniveling stuck up 5th year Ravenclaws that had tried to sneak into the restricted section of the library to "get ahead of the rest". They certainly had a humbling experience. He needed something special for these two. Though by the look of them anything would make them crack.

However, his planning was halted by what he saw. It had creped up on him and caught him him by surprise, which was unusual for a man that saw things round corners, finished everyone's sentences and predicted what the stars could not.

A small first year slytherin girl, quietly sobbing into her arms, crouched down into a tiny crevice of the ancient castle walls, seemingly invisible, as were obviously her intentions. He may not have recognised her with her usually plated hair undone and falling in greasy limp strands over her face and sleeves. But being an ever observant man he was familiar enough with her manner to know it was her. None of this stuck out to him though. Only that her slytherin uniform was coated in various pie fillings and crusts. Righteous anger filled him. Humiliation and indignation for a slytherin student, his Slytherin student, that that been taken down by two weedy hufflepuffs. He carried off again, picking up his pace greatly.

All she noticed was the pause in familiar footsteps, and then the rushing off of them. She felt that it was him. And she couldn't care that he had seen her like this, or any teacher right now.

As snape arrived at his own classroom door, he dropped the two lidded buckets, one at either side of the door, and smoothly entered. Not a single hint was given away on his face as he peered over the two nervous students. They stared as he slid past them without a word and to the bookshelf, picking out a particularly thick, old book. At this they exchanged a worried glance and a shared grimace. But he just took the book with him to his desk, opened it, expelling the dust into the still air around him, and became reading peacefully as though they weren't even there. This was unusual and terrifying. After 10 minutes of this, just as they were begging to find a sense of ease he snapped the book shut and slowly stood up.

"Now tell me exactly what happened this morning. From the beginning. And don't bother explaining yourselves"

"We…..we both went down to the kitchen, and stole pies. Th-th-then w-we started th-throwing them sir." the girl managed to get out.

"WHERE, GIRL?" The tears were coming down both their faces this time.

"Outside t-the Great hall sir."

"AND AT WHO DID YOU THROW THESE PIES?" The boy hide his face in his chest while the girl took the fire.

"A-a S-Slytherin girl, Flich a-a-and Mrs Norris." She had begun to sob.

"Get out of my classroom and INTO THE CORRIDOR!"

They stumbled over themselves. Snape followed, now having the information he needed.

Out in the corridor, his presence pushed them up to the wall of the corridor, daring to only shuffle as if trying to wriggle as far back into the wall as possible. He picked up the bucket he knew he'd need for this situation. Within a half breath he'd thrown off the lid against the wall, an thlung the open bucket towards then, pouring a generous rain of tarantulas on them. They needed to command to pick up running, screaming and wailing as arachnids clung to their clothing and hair.

He dropped to bucket making an irritating clang on the stone floor, half huffed, half sighed, and returned to the classroom. That had felt good.

The train would be leaving soon and as students were beginning to make their ways out of the castle, Snape slithered through the sparse crowd to deliver the favor he now owed Hagrid. Here and there her herd the expected snippets of exaggerated and true gossip about his latest punishment being fed from student to student. His reputation would be very fat and healthy come the start of the next school year. On his way back a crowd was growing of the students carting their luggage, in pairs and groups, chatting, laughing, and making the respectable amount of room for him, with feared glances and more gossip.

And in the crowd he saw her. Pushing along a trunk and more like everybody else. Until Some older Ravenclaw boys tripped her up, laughing before she even hit her luggage and the ground. No one gave it any notice beyond a few sniggers. He elegantly flew through the crowd and to her. The boys took their chances and quickly disappeared into the thick of students.

She looked up to find him stood over her with his arm out for her.

His face was completely straight as he analysed the situation. She only had a bust lip and a few grazes. Students definitely noticed, but he knew helping her couldn't really hurt his reputation after the tarantula incident. Both of them however were frozen as she just took in what she was actually seeing. Maybe this wasn't a good move.

Blood trickled down her chin as she stared at him with her mouth gaping stupidly. Only when he lifted his eyebrows up did she stumble into action, nervous gratitude spread on her face.

"Thank you sir." her voice seemed to be heaped with politeness, as she cautiously grabbed his arm and shakily hoisted herself up. He said nothing, but stood watching as she recovered herself, and then sauntered off.

Today was a good day. He was happy with what he did. A terrible deed and a good deed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

This September was cold and grey, particularly bitter, with winds gasping through the castle, rain drumming it's fingers on all the old windows, and trees groaning with age. And this made Severus feel invigorated! Weather is what Scotland does right. The marvelous weather he considered was a welcome back gift. He's spent most of the summer in Europe as he usually did. Mostly Italy, helping with research. What did I do right to deserve this he wondered.

Many aspects of Italy attracted the man to returning year after year. The culture for starters. Another thing. Maybe. Though he wouldn't venture too much further than Rome.

Flitwick had a theory that Snape, a man of many dark secrets, went over for some sordid detail or diabolical plan, his reason being that the pale man never came back with a "lovely tan". Sprout remarked that the man was rightly pale, having eyes dark enough for it. None of this ever made it to Snape's ears.

The castle seemed to sag and sigh, breath and live in this weather. While it did not make much of a difference down in the dungeons, in the quiet of his own work he heard miserable weeping murmurs of the castle from above. Ambiance he thought it in his darker, more reflective moments. And he slept much more soundly at night, like the raindrops were notes, and the wind howls singing in a lullaby.

So far everything had seemed normal. Until Minerva gave him a look while passing in the corridor which he couldn't decipher beyond smug. This he thought, could be in connection with the genuine smile Pomona had given him the next day at breakfast.

He did not like this. Not at all. Does Strange weather make magic folk even stranger?

It got stranger still. On the 4th day into term, in second year potions with Slytherin, the eyes in the back of his head seemed to fail him. When he turned his back he heard snickering and shuffling, yet had no idea what was going on. Everyone seemed perfectly innocent, nothing appeared to have moved, not even the thick layer of dust that was impossible to permanently rid the airless classroom of. He felt as though he were going crazy. The Hufflepuffs had been as obedient as ever after last year, yet his own house, full of eager and hungry students were acting as slovenly as Gryffindors! In fact he felt personally insulted. After a year of his personal blend of torment they had the nerve to do regard him with anything but fear and respect. So he figured his plan.

As the students, tucked away their parchment, quills and door stopper potions books he announced, and only barely audibly.

"And remember, these assignments are much more difficult now you're all in your second year. You may find yourselves short for time. Please know that I will not tolerate late turn ins, just as I will not tolerate disobedience. And so you may be relieved to know that I am allowing you the opportunity to start this week's assignment in today's detention." And he waited, for the students to slow down, pause and mutter quietly things such as "Detention? What" and "Today? Not today."

"I'll see you all at the end of the day."

He watched all the students file out carefully. She was there. She had grown at least. Not much taller but a healthy layer of puppy fat on her. She didn't look as weedy. But still pale and plain.

Normalcy returned for a week or two, then breaking in another second year Slytherin class. Whispers and quiet snickering bounced off the windowless, grimy stone walls, even the treacherous high ceiling, Snape's surround sound spies.

"Detention." He rang out, while writing on the chalkboard, the whole class getting the message.

"What for?" A slytherin boy piped up, already knowing the answer to that question.

"Would Mr Walton be requiring a third detention? Or are two enough?" Silence.

For 2 minutes. And then a loud clatter. He almost didn't even notice what had caused it, just that something was off about the room, until he spotted the vacant space. Striding over he saw the young girl doubled over and entangled with the stool chair under her desk. She looked pitiable poking out of the shadows, with her young face trying desperately not to give anything away, and her skew robes trapping her legs. Even he almost found it funny. When she saw him over her hopelessness flashed across her face before she remembered to preserve herself. It was clear she wasn't at all able to get up from the grubby floor.

"Move!" "Not you girl! You two, now. Off your chairs, and pull them out of the way!" And the two students either side of her did as they were told. Swiftly he then did something that he had never done in his entire career. His touch was deft, and even gentle as he hoisted the girl up by her upper arms.

She felt unsuspectedly heavy and cold, he found it almost disturbing. Besides dragging up delinquents by the scruffs of their necks, this was the first time he'd held someone. It wasn't what he'd expected for a living person, too impersonale and detached.

To her he felt surprisingly warm.

With his help she came clumsily to her feet, trying ever more to keep her preservation, a soft huff coming from her mouth on gaining balance. Dirt from the floor covered her robes, uniform, and mostly hands, which he noticed with a slight sneer.

Before she found the words to politely thank him, he addressed her with "Miss Kaper, You should be thankful you're only coming away from this lesson with one detention today. Make sure to remember that I-do-not-tolerate disturbances in class. Now get back at you desk, unless that's too difficult for you."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Her response was quick and automatic, she seemed surprised even at his. A snicker followed as he marched back to his desk. The eyes in the back of his head did not fail him this time.

"Three detentions Mr Walton! And you'll be scrubbing the entire class room floor the first. It's filthy!" He allowed himself to smile, as the boys face scrunched up in furry, "And two detentions after that you can see how much floor of rest of the dungeon you can accomplish."

Snape knew this was one of the worst detentions in his arenal. It was surprisingly terrible. Elbow grease, disgustingly dirty, and never ending. Maybe his anger had devoured him. But those who defy him suffer appropriately.

October arrived and the weather only became wilder. Maybe his theory was correct, as all the students at least seemed restless. Detentions were been given out like halloween treats, the enchanted ceiling stole the attention away from food every meal time, and pets were ever escaping their owners.

"Wonderful isn't it?" Dumbledore remarked when he caught Snape gazing up at the enchanted ceiling on a particularly vigorous storm

"Isn't it just." as usual Snape's expression and tone were as flat and blank as paper.

"It's such a distraction it's even got you Severus. Those poor students don't stand a chance of finishing dinner tonight." Dumbledore chuckled softly. Booms of angry thunder penetrated the castle, and the ceiling showed a purple tinted grey sky, with clouds that were ever rolling, white flashes that crept through the creases and folds, and vicious lashings of thick rain drops that disappeared just below the candles.

Flitwick's high pitch voice cracked through the storm.

"Ha ha, I almost think the rains going to break through the enchantment! Scary! Ha ha!"

"But, Filius, you're the one who put the enchantment up." responded Mcgonigal

"Yes!" and he broke out cackling. McGonagall pursed her lips, but something then caught her eye, drawing out a low sigh.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Minerva?"

"It's about one of your Slytherin students, if you've noticed Leanne Kaper, she's not doing very well…."

"Well she's certainly not incompetent in potions." he snidely remarked as though that would settle the matter.

"She's being bullied!" exclaimed Flitwick as though it was obvious.

"You must have noticed?" she implored.

"I don't tolerate such foolishness in my classroom." she stared at him before replying with.W

"I heard about you helping her severus, both times. Those Slytherins pushed her stool forward, she's not just clumsy!" He went just a bit pink on his cheeks. That was the reason for the look she gave him! And the smile from Sprout.

"Why are you bringing this up?" He accidentally hissed at her.

"We're all looking out for her, us Staff, the students won't!" flitwick spoke as though her were initiating him into a prestigious club.

"I keep order in my class. That should be enough!" There was a pause, and then Minerva, looked at him very earnestly saying.

"What you did was very good of you Severus, it was kind. You obviously don't despise the girl! She just needs as many people on her side as she can get right now. And you're her head of house!" at this Flitwick huffed to himself. "You could do so much for her, keep an eye on her when we can't. She's sweet, smart and...different; she hasn't managed to fit in yet, the other students are scared of that."

"And you're good at rooting out trouble." flitwick's obvious attempt to sweeten him up.

"Very well then, I shall see what I can do." his statement was dripping with reluctance.

This was the very last thing he wanted to do. Baby sit some pathetic little second year that he would barely call a Slytherin. She wasn't hateable, but she certainly wasn't likable at all. A teacher's pet obviously, spineless, no personality, no ambition, nothing of merit beyond above average grades, and they were certainly nothing to brag about.

But he did find himself looking in her direction. If he decided it was worth it he might just do as he said.

Looking droopy she was sat between two groups of Slytherins, completely ignored, her yes every so often dancing up to the ceiling as the lightning continued through the sky in lilac waves. Even from his distance he could tell she was looking worse for wear, her black hair a bit greasy and her face washed out. As the lilac light managed to just reach her head, he wondered what something like her could possibly be thinking about, his black eyes trying to pierce through as they normally did. And just a moment later he saw the little tear travel down her cheek.

Snape wasn't entirely heartless, or without his own nightmares. Though he denied this having anything to do with his next actions. To him any action he undertook was nothing, and the only reason was purely curiosity.

That evening Snape made a visit to the Slytherin Common room. At first no one even realised he was there as he stood dead against the back wall next to the 8ft black oak doors. He did not come here. Not to this magnificent room. A cave under the castle, stretching out to a glass wall at the far end, that was shared by the lake. Vastly spacious and minimalistic, the opposite of the pokey Gryffindor common room, yet still just as cosy and much more luxurious. The near black walls were guarded by tall black bookcases, and hiding over a dozen little crevices, the floor was pale, glorious marble, and though the air was deathly cold, several groups of dark green couches crowded round fire places with beautiful green flames pouring out warmth. But the most fantastic thing about this place was the light. Most of the room was in a dusty darkness, but with the green fires, the strategic lamps and most importantly the glowing and swirling lake, the light was breathtaking. And he observed it all from the darkest end of the room.

His heart raced. He could not help but be completely enthralled. This is why Snape loved his job. The transition from student to teacher kept everything he respected, admired, enjoyed even, right with him, always. And the Slytherin life was center.

But still. There are something the transition leaves behind. The bitter taste in his mouth this room gave him was a reminder of that. Even in his disgustingly miserable life, he considered hell a long way behind.

Failing to see her in plain sight he wondered into the room, students falling into a hush as they spotted him near. He Drew on through the room, spying into the spots of darkness, the nooks and crannies. He found a pair of students making out on a couch in one of the nooks, and a student picking their nose in a cranny (and a Slytherin as well, no wonder they're letting the likes of Leanne in), and doled out three detentions, but no Leanne.

He tried. And he may not try again. Why should he. Was it even any of his concern?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The storms had stopped. The weather had stopped. And like always for him, Halloween slipped in like a white ghost, it's gloved hands come to pat him on the back, another year gone. But still "I've lost her" was new and fresh as hell for him. He sat on the edge of his bed, a lazy habit he did not own, but he was not not freely himself today. Half way undressed, half awake, fully tormented. Cold morning air, as sharp as outside, was free to touch all his bare skin. To jab at him. Half exposed. Not at all like Snape. The man so strictly covered from shoe cap to high collar in all black.

But Monday was Monday. And he must do.

The staff chattered on at the breakfast table about the sudden change in weather, the storm that had disappeared, the fog that had appeared, the stillness, the quiet after the storm. It was so quiet.

Sat there, among them, for him the quiet had stopped. His mind taken over by the screaming and wailing in his head of his on going mourning on this day. He was glazed over and cracked. Dumbledore saw him rise from the table early in between all the talking heads, black coffee untouched, still hot, and slide through the hall, not himself. Why the elves bothered putting any food or drink out for him today Dumbledore had no idea he sighed to himself.

Lets hope this is a short sweet chapter in his life and not just the dragged out end.

The fluffy white hair at the back of his head was burning, so he turned to meet Minerva's tight scowl of concern.

"Yes Minerva." She just huffed out a sigh through her pinched nose. "I know."

"Every year Albus."

"Halloween is Lily's Holiday." He said with strange sad and gentle warmness.

"So is every other day of the year." Remarked Flitwick lashing his toast with marmalade. Hooch snorted. Their conversation was no longer private. And no longer continuing here.

When the evening started to arrive Severus was sat outside, in a long open courtyard, thick black cloak over him. Everything was white. It almost didn't seem like a Halloween. The Dense fog danced in the air around him almost as snowflakes. He sobbed and sobbed. Hands in his lap, slouched over, fog dampened and greasy black hair over his face. His normally tight mouth open in a big and ugly frown letting choked cries out, and eyes wrenched shut, knowing he was sure to be alone. It was so cold. Not like October.

If anyone would have seen it would have been heartbreaking. He seemed young and small and vulnerable. Under an almost oversized cloak, with salty tears which stung running down his face, and red cheeks from the cold.

He just sobbed. Shoulders shaking under the heavy cloak.

Eventually it came time to wipe his eyes on the back of his sleeve and start to compose himself. His face still blotchy he combed his hair stands out of the way and looked forward contemplatively, into the far off field and forest beyond the open end of the courtyard. Or where it would be beyond all the thick dense white fog.

After a long moment to himself he saw a figure ahead. It seemed far off in the distance but it couldn't be as he wouldn't be able to see it in the fog though his usual reasoning wasn't quite with him today.

It was a little red headed figure. Walking across the field or the courtyard. That could be made out through the fog and his tear soaked vision. He panicked. He was not going to let a student see him like this! So he hurried up mopping up his wet and snotty face with his sleeve and pushing his soiled hair this way and then that. This was not his best moment. Almost lurching forwards to stand and get a better look at this fiure he twistedly amused that it was her ghost come back at this dark hour to torment him in spectral form. But she was definitely gone. That was the joke. The twisted part.

Luckily this little threat was walking across and not towards him though he still may have been spotted. Checking with clearer vision he saw it was only a little orange fox.

For him Halloweens celebrations were over now, before nightfall and he went back across to his chambers, his solitude, to find his cold bedroom, and his bed waiting with much needed sleep.


End file.
